Magnetism
by CrimsonLightlessAngel
Summary: spitfirexnue, im going to share this to you.. just open this and read R&R plz ONESHOT


**Magnetism**: Magnetism  
**Series**: Air Gear.  
**Pairing**: Spitfire/Nue.  
**Rating**: PG-13.  
**Genre**: Oh, lord, another romantic comedy.  
**Description**: It's raining. Nue's some sorta stalker. Spitfire's kinda ghey.  
**Disclaimer**: If I claim Air Gear as mine, I'm pretty sure Oh!Great will come and shoot me or something.

well im going to share calamiti0us fiction about spity and nue..  
enjoy!!

mememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememem

Title

Sometimes he wonders why he goes to such great lengths to display his idiocy.

He stands there, soaked, the raven material of his coat draped heavily onto his shoulders and limply clinging to his figure, serving as an ineffective defense against the rapidly falling droplets from the sky. He knows that it's a ridiculous outfit to wear in the rain, but he can't help it. He had a reputation to uphold.

Besides, his Regalia would be a _bitch_ to dry off if it were to be thoroughly deluged with water. Better to be slightly soggy than wet as a sponge. Even so, Nue sniffs indignantly as he gingerly picks up the edge of his cloak, squeezing it between two hands, eliciting a steady stream of water to work its way between his fingers. He honestly doesn't know why he's still standing out here in the rain.

Well, he technically _does_ know. But he isn't exactly keen on admitting it.

Heaving a sigh, the silver haired boy turns away from the structure before him, the lights streaming out of the windows casting his silhouette onto the ground before him. Tensing suddenly, the famed Thunder King releases a sneeze loud enough to drown out an ambulance siren and, as if on cue, a car decides to rush by, spraying the hapless young boy with water from a large puddle nearby.

Shivering in spite of himself, Nue bites the inside of his cheek. The rain seems to abate into a slight drizzle now, and he takes slight heart in this. However, he is extremely close to leaving, and he swears to whatever power there is that if that god damned Spitfire doesn't open that door to leave within the next five minutes--

And then the door to the hair salon swings open, and the rain suddenly intensifies as a violently red-haired man steps into the streets. Hallelujah, cue the chorus of divinities.

Nue turns to face the taller man, cobalt eyes narrowed slightly as his usually spiky 

hair falls flatly over his eyes. It's longer than one would suspect, falling slightly past his jawbones and matting itself to the back of his neck. Spitfire stares at the boy in front of him in silence, blinking. The rain continues to fall, saturating the fur upon the lapels of the redhead's jacket, smiting whatever allure the material may have held in the first place. Nue struggles to keep his teeth from chattering as he stands there, his gaze evenly meeting the older man's.

Clearing his throat, Spitfire awkwardly decides to break the silence. "Nue," he begins, blinking once more. "…What are you doing here?"

The argent haired boy takes this time to formulate a convincing lie. After a pause significantly long enough to notify Spitfire that Nue either doesn't know or isn't willing to tell him his reason for being there, the younger of the two coughs. "I was just passing through the area," he says a little too quickly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He honestly hopes that Spitfire didn't notice him standing out on the curb for half an hour.

"I…see," Spitfire replies, quirking a brow. He doesn't buy it, but he's willing to play along. After a long day of snipping at the hair of screaming women, the Flame King isn't up for heated debate. His main concern at the moment is to get out of the rain. "Um," the older man begins once more. "Do you want to go out, or something? Where's the rest of Black Crow, anyway? Shouldn't they be with you?"

Nue shakes his head. "They didn't feel like coming out," he replies, a bald faced lie. In reality, he had told his team not to accompany him on his little outing, insinuating that he had grown-up business to take care of although he wasn't too much older than his faithful disciples. Besides, he was becoming increasingly aware of the dozens of ogling little eyes from the roofs of the surrounding buildings. Nue shifts uneasily on his feet as he feels a blush creeping onto his face at Spitfire's invitation to go out. Child prodigy or no, Nue was still a boy with a crush, although he was loath to admit it. Making a silent mental note to chastise his AT team at a later date, the silvery haired boy holds his silence, looking away from the older man.

Spitfire simply nods in reply to Nue's explanation for his solitude. He, too, is aware of Black Crow's members' impromptu attempt at espionage, and his suspicions of Nue's presence are only strengthened. _"The jig is up,"_ Spitfire thinks to himself, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He knows that there is some sort of ulterior motive for Nue visiting him, otherwise the team of young stormriders would have been in plain view.

Seeing the grin that spreads across Spitfire's lips, Nue feels the onset of panic 

bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. The rain steadily begins to intensify even further as they stand there there, Nue's teeth beginning to chatter again. _"He knows, he knows, he __**knows**__,"_ the Thunder King thinks, this phrase becoming a silent mantra that plays repeatedly in his head.

"Okay, you've got me!" Nue suddenly cries, shaking on his feet. Spitfire blinks for the umpteenth time at this outburst, cocking his head to the side. "I wanted to see you again," the Thunder King spits out, causing Spitfire's posture to straighten suddenly. Nue is instantly and very keenly aware of the redhead's coworkers' gazes staring pointedly at the two of them through the salon's window. All of this unwanted attention was enough to drive the boy insane.

"Oh," Spitfire replies. "Is that it, then?" Nonchalantly, he takes a step toward the younger boy.

Stepping backwards, Nue blinks, his face flushed. He can barely feel the rain as it splatters upon his face. "What do you mean, 'is that it, then'?" A sudden, reflexive anger begins to replace the feeling of panic in Nue's gut. How dare the hairstylist make so little of the feelings that had been plaguing the Thunder King for ages?!

"You could have just said so, you know," the older man continues, ignoring Nue's question. Spitfire runs a hand through his soaked red hair, causing the younger boy's pulse to accelerate. "I mean, it has been a while…" _"…And I know you want me,"_ the redhead silently adds, chuckling to himself.

Regaining his composure, Nue crosses his arms and huffs. "Well, what did you expect me to say? 'Hey, Supi, it's been a while, wanna play baseball?!'" The boy laughs bitterly, turning away from the redhead before him.

Shaking his head, Spitfire strides forward and closes the distance between the two of them, snaking his arms around Nue's neck from behind. "Or you could have just said, 'I miss you,'" he retorts softly, pressing up against the Thunder King.

Nue's breath catches in his throat at the feeling of Spitfire's breath on the back of his neck, and he shivers, but not from the cold. His vision begins to swim, and spots appear in front of his eyes. His legs feel weak in spite of the Regalia that they are enveloped in, and he murmurs something unintelligible in response to the older man.

"What's that?" Spitfire whispers, his lips brushing against Nue's ear. He was enjoying himself far too much.

Nue doesn't respond, but instead leans back into the taller man's embrace, his body going limp. Unbeknownst to the redhead, Nue forfeits his consciousness to the chill of the rain and the shock of Spitfire's embrace. Spitfire takes this as an open invitation and turns Nue to face him, not thinking of how odd it is that the younger man's body so easily complies and bends to the manipulation of his hands. It isn't until the Flame King is kissing Nue that Spitfire realizes the Thunder King's less-than-conscious state.

Breaking away and clearing his throat nervously, Spitfire turns his gaze around the streets, mildly grateful that his shift at the salon ends at such an ungodly hour. The surrounding area is blessedly devoid of human life to the naked eye, so (almost) no one bore witness to the one-sided liplock between the Kings of Flame and Thunder.

Awkwardly, Spitfire shifts his weight to better accommodate the unmoving Nue, haphazardly throwing one of the younger man's arms around his neck while the redhead slid one of his own to Nue's waist. The rain abated momentarily before it began to pour harder than ever, and Spitfire silently cursed his luck as he began the long trek back to his residence, the sight of his retreating back eliciting childish murmurs and giggles that ripple through the night air like spirits. Somehow, Spitfire _knows_ that Nue is going to get heat for this from the rest of Black Crow.

Halfway through the journey, Spitfire wonders if Nue's Regalia is effected by water's conductivity. Not wanting to take any chances, he breaks into a half-run, dragging the platinum haired boy into the shelter of his abode. As the older man lays the boy on the couch, he sighs, relieved as he brushes a few stray strands of matted hair out of Nue's closed eyes.

He doesn't understand the way he feels towards Nue, and somehow, he doesn't feel that he needs to. All he really knows is that the Thunder King is placidly slumbering on his couch, and to Spitfire there was a sort of magnetism about him that had nothing to do with his ridiculous (in his private, personal opinion) full-body Regalia. Expelling a breath, Spitfire sits next to Nue's prone form, sopping wet and all, and begins to doze, his long, slender fingers deftly threading themselves through silvery locks.

Just as the redhead feels himself on the precipice of sleep, he murmurs, "How the hell did you get stuck with the _Rising_ Road, anyway…?"

"Shut the fuck up, you flaming hairstylist," Nue retorts sleepily, snuggling his cheek into Spitfire's lap. The redhead laughs, and the two Kings freefall headfirst into sleep, the rain continuing its steady deluge upon the silent city streets.

**memememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememememe**

**Credits :  
calamiti0us from live journal  
and my ass for searching for it!!**

Hin-chi


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